


I Hope this is the Last Time

by aceskywalker



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, like the one you expect to live doesnt, not a good time, very very pain, wtf is this honestly.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4948306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceskywalker/pseuds/aceskywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How did you accomplish this, R?”</p>
<p>“I’ve been able to, I don’t know what to call it, ah, disappear from one place and reappear in another since as long as I can remember.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hope this is the Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my homie ragnar-rock @ tumblr who insisted someone write my own idea. Of course I couldn't allow anyone but me to write it. Initially an everyone lives!au due to Tom Hooper putting Grantaire in different places at the start of the barricade/the funeral.   
> "deaths" a mix of book/movie/my own fucked up imagination. 
> 
> enjoy! xx

Enjolras thought that this was going well. No one had died yet, which should be counted as a miracle. He mentally resented that thought as Marius climbed his way to the top of the barricade barrel of gunpowder in hand.

Before Enjolras could argue otherwise, Marius pulled the torch from his hand and angled it toward the barrel, threatening to blow them u if the Guard didn’t retreat.

“No, Marius!” Enjolras tried to tear the wood from his hand to no avail.

Out of the corner of his eye, Enjolras watched Eponine reach for the barrel of a gun that was aimed at Marius Grantaire grasping her shoulder, lips pulled up mid protest.

Distracted, Enjolras turned from the scene to grab the torch back from Marius, murmuring congratulatory comment. After ushering him down the barricade, Enjolras looked around and saw no sign of Eponine whilst Grantaire gained a sullen expression.

Enjolras heaved a heavy sign as the weight of her death was added to his shoulders.

It seemed there would be no reprieve as a shout rang out from the other end of the barricade. Enjolras rushed over to the sound, saw Grantaire’s hand on Bahorel’s back as he moved to jump upon a soldier that was about to fire at him.

A second shout from the same person gained Enjolras’ attention and he turned to see Jehan being pulled over the barricade. Enjolras ran to grab their leg something-anything to stop them from being taken. He hissed and fired haphazardly at the soldiers. It was too late; Jehan was already gone.

Enjolras fell against the barricade as he could no longer hold himself up. Combeferre approached him his usual bright aura dull. “What happened?”

“Bahorel was shot, Jehan taken prisoner.”

Combeferre sighed and slumped beside Enjolras wrapping an arm around him companionably. “This isn’t turning out how you thought it would, eh?” His tone was not mocking.

“I never truly wanted any of you to die for this, for me…”

Enjolras let out a quiet sob as he watched Grantaire pass, drinking deeply from a tarnished bottle. He wondered why the man was so god damn lucky to have escaped death’s grasp twice.

Combeferre hushed Enjolras and held him close, letting his friend exhaust his residual feelings. Combeferre needed the marble leader to return to stone if any of them were to survive this. Enjolras didn’t know if he had it in him.

After allowing himself a few minutes to fall apart, Enjolras wiped his eyes and stood tall marching himself to the rest of the group. Combeferre frowned but followed, inserting himself behind Joly. “Courfeyrac, you take the watch. They may attack before it’s light. Everybody keep the faith, so long as our banner flies we are not alone.”

Enjolras, now filled with the deepest sorrows pressed himself against a wall of the Musian and listened to his companions sing of the lives that used to be. It struck him to his core and left him breathless to think that this is what had become of them, the brave revolutionaries that just wanted to change the world for the better.

It was a restless night.

In the following morning, Combeferre approached Enjolras with the idea of trading Jehan for Javert. Enjolras vehemently agreed and motioned for Courfeyrac and Grantaire to gather Javert from where he was secured.

There were a yelp from the other side of the barricade causing Grantaire to drop Javert and move quickly to the top to peer over. “It’s Jehan!”

Enjolras turned to Combeferre to confer with him on the recent development when Jehan’s voice rang out, “Long live France! Long live the revolution!” Enjolras’ head snapped back to where Grantaire was last perch and blanched when he found that Grantaire was no longer there. Multiple shots were fired and Enjolras fell against Combeferre’s side, numbness itching through his limber. Jehan, and perhaps even Grantaire, were now dead as well.

Feuilly saddled up to them to insert an important message. “We need more ammunition, Enjolras.”

Gavroche, the little sneak heard this and climbed over the barricade to gather supplies from the fallen soldiers.

“No, Gavroche!” Combeferre warned, taking a few steps closer to him.

Courfeyrac paled and immediately ran after the boy, shouting his name in earnest. Enjolras collapsed as he could predict what would happen next. Combeferre fell beside him and wrapped his arms around Enjolras. Shot were fired, but they could still hear Gavroche taunting the men; Courfeyrac was just now over the edge of the barricade, sobbing violently. Enjolras hid his face in Combefere’s chest, unable to watch this unfold.

All of a sudden, the soldiers shouted in alarm and more rounds were fired, Enjolras flinching at each one.

Bossuet, Joly, Marius and Feuilly climbed to the crest of the barricade, rage urging them to fire their weapons at will. Bossuet’s hat flew off his head when a cannonball arched toward him. He and Feuilly laughed; they laughed so hard that Bossuet fell over to the other side of the barricade. Joly was so in shock that all he could do was stare at the empty space beside him which gave a soldier the opportunity to shoot him, bullet zipping through his shoulder. Joly cried out and slid down the barricade.

Combeferre released Enjolras to go help Joly. “Go, Enjolras. Barricade yourself in the Musian! Take Marius and Feuilly. Please.”

Enjolras stood on shaking legs, unable to reply. Marius trotted to his side like a good little puppy. Feuilly stayed his course.

“Feuilly?” Marius questioned.

“Go! I’ll hold them as long as I can.” Feuilly turned back to the soldiers, swearing viciously. “Kutas! Debil! Gswno! Kurwa!”

Marius tugged Enjolras by the sleeve, seemingly overtaking his leadership role. Enjolras had lost all his thunder, his rage. They cut down the stairs with an axe before descending to their doom. Enjolras barely held himself up as he leaned against a wall, Marius tossing bottles at the oncoming army. Not for long, it seemed, as he was shot through the skull, falling limp against the bannister.

Enjolras inhaled sharply and stood tall as he heard the soldiers stomp their way up the staircase. HE held his head high, staring those motherfuckers right in the eye.

“I’m with him!” Grantaire fumbled his way up the stairs, earning a shocked gasp from Enjolras. Grantaire retreated to his side.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Not quite. Do you permit it, Apollo?”

Enjolras took Grantaire’s hand and smiled.

“Hold your breath and close your eyes.”

Enjolras obliged and instead of felling bullets pierce his skin, he felt a soft whoosh of air and his feet left the ground. When Enjolras reopened his eye, he fell to his knees at the sight before him. There were his friends, alive and well (the exception being Joly, who had a clean bit of fabric pressed to his wound).

“Marius?”

“He died before I could reach him. I’m so sorry, I tired. He is a hero.”

Combeferre wrapped an arm around Enjolras and raised a bottle. “To Marius!”

The toast was echoed throughout the circle.

“How did you accomplish this, R?”

“I’ve been able to, I don’t know what to call it, ah, disappear from one place and reappear in another since as long as I can remember.”

“And where are we?”

“My vacant family estate.”

“Oh.”

The uncomfortable silence bloomed for only a short while before Joly came to drag Grantaire away to drink and Combeferre hit Enjolras with questions on their future moves. Now that they were aware of Grantaire’s ability, he could be used as a secret weapon. Les Amis could possibly overthrow the corrupt government after all. There was finally hope.


End file.
